Jealousy
by rainsrabble
Summary: Hermione gets dumped and publicly humiliated by Ron. Draco is given an order to propose to Pansy Parkinson. They decide to pretend to be an item in order to make Ron Jealous and make Mr. Malfoy mad.
1. The Best Laid Plans

Hermione hated gossip. But even so one couldn't help but hear about the latest Malfoy altercation that had manifested itself right in the middle of the entrance hall. Everyone was talking and speculating. Of course no one knew exactly what the argument was about due to an airtight silencing charm that resisted all attempts at infiltration. But it was the third such heated exchange between father and son that had occurred within the month. Needless to say prying minds wanted to know and debate was rampant about what could have caused such a serious breach in family relations.

Despite the honest fact that she could care less about any Malfoy inner dealings, as long as it didn't directly affect her and her friends of course, Hermione found herself oddly grateful for this latest round of Hogwarts intrigue. The fact of the matter was it distracted the rabid gossip hounds from her own personal turmoil that had previously been the talk of the halls. After years of obliviousness, or perhaps shyness on Ron's part, two of the Golden three had become a couple. Apparently everyone had been waiting on tenterhooks for Ron to make his move and Hermione had been overwhelmed by all the gushiness and attention she had received from everyone. For eight weeks they had been the perfect couple, ooshy and happy.

Two weeks ago however, the honeymoon over so to speak, the fighting began. Everything had rapidly spiraled downhill finally ending in a spectacular break-up. Everyone had thought it temporary, Hermione included, until Ron had come to breakfast with Padma Patil the very next morning. To say she was hurt would be a mammoth understatement. After five minutes of watching them grope each other at the Gryffindor table Hermione had fled to the safety of the girls bathroom and did not come out all afternoon. Thank goodness it had been Saturday and she hadn't missed any classes.

She had remained closeted up all weekend, speaking to no one. But Monday was inevitable and she had to go to classes. Ron and Padma walked the halls twined around each other like vines. Hermione wanted to be sick. Especially when she got wind of the rumor flying the halls in her absence. Apparently it had been put around that the reason that Ron had broken up with her was because she wouldn't sleep with him, and everyone knew that Padma would. They certainly were making no effort to hide their disgusting public displays. Her lack of response over the weekend had allowed the rumor to grow unchecked and Hermione wanted to bury her head in Harry's shoulder to avoid the sympathetic pitying looks directed her way amongst whispers and shaking heads.

Harry, loyal and true, had shown up at her shoulder first thing Monday morning and had not mentioned one word about the whole thing. After three classes Hermione had gently said that she would be fine, if Harry wanted to hang with Ron for a little while. He had frowned, and gotten the wrinkle between his brows that let her know that he was going to be completely honest with her. "I don't want to be a third wheel."

"Harry don't be silly, Ron and I never thought of you that way."

"You didn't make me feel that way either…but things are different now." He had said, smiling at her and she had managed to smile back. But inside she was seething. It looked like Ron had apparently abandoned more than one friend. He continued to be distant from Harry and revoltingly touchy feely with his new girlfriend. And they always seemed to be together. Hermione was more than grateful that there was something to distract the Hogwarts gossip hounds, because she didn't know how much more she could take.

* * *

Draco Malfoy swaggered down the hallways with as much fanfare as he could manage, making sure that his robes billowed as impressively as possible. This attitude effectively curtailed all hesitant overtures of company or questions. As expected other students shied away from him and did not pester him. He certainly was in no mood for it. He was still quite mad actually. Even hours after the fight with his father he was still just bursting at the seams, his body begging to do some type of violence. A candidate for Head Boy did not do damage to other students so Draco was on his way to the pitch for a little flying. Nothing managed to cool him off faster than rushing through the air on a broomstick.

His father was an idiot. Draco loosened his grip on his broomstick before he damaged it and slowed his step. No need to look like he was running. Malfoys did not run through the halls. Not only had his sorry excuse for a father completely butchered the family name with his short sighted foolishness he also refused to admit it. He kept insisting that all the Voldemort garbage was the right way to go. Any simpleton could see that old Voldie was as loopy as a Weasley's broom and unstable to boot. Perhaps he had been an intelligent strategist once, but it was perfectly clear to anyone who took their heads out of their rears to look that the last 16 years had left him three lengths short of a broomstick.

Not to mention the fact that his whole tower of beliefs were short sighted and stupid. Eradicate all Muggle-borns and Mudbloods? Anybody with any sense knew that without peasants there would be no royalty. Likewise if everyone were pureblooded, what would be the value of it? What would make purebloods exceptional? And all the while Voldemort was raving about the superiority of the Wizard Race he was demanding that high class Pureblood Wizards grovel in the mud. And if they didn't do what they were told than Voldemort killed them. Two-faced idiot. If he couldn't even adhere to his own standards then the old bat was hardly fit to be giving orders to a Malfoy.

This latest fight was just the icing on the cake. "It's time you proposed to Miss Parkinson. You have a duty to this family. As your father I have the right to chose who to let into this family…" Blah Blah Blah. Like Lucius' track record of great decisions qualified him to make life decisions for Draco. What he really needed was to do something drastic. Something that made a political statement, set his values apart from his father, and put the slimy git in his place.

He needed to show his father and the world that Malfoys answered to no one. He needed to distance his family's name from Voldemort. And he needed to do it quickly. The longer he let this go on the worse the damage was. He needed to make it clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was his own man…his eyes narrowed as they fell on one petite curly haired girl as she left the library with a handful of books. A plan was quickly forming in his clever mind.

* * *

Hermione hurried out of the library with her head down, clutching her books comfortingly to her chest. Perhaps she would make it back to her dorm before Padma and she could climb into bed and pretend sleep before she got in. Maybe she really would fall asleep and she would have to listen to her gossip with Parvati about Ron's penis and other disgusting things she would rather not know about. She half thought Padma knew that Hermione was awake and that's why she was being so crude. When had she gotten so cruel?

Focused on her destination Hermione paid no attention to her surroundings, knowing the way by heart. So it was a complete and total shock when she smashed into a stone wall and rebounded onto her bum with a thud. She looked up slowly, horror washing over her as her eyes encountered crisp black robes and then stormy grey eyes. It took a moment before her eyes focused enough to take in his entire face. Without his trademark sneer she almost didn't recognize his handsome features. The worst luck, to run into Malfoy of all people!

She scrambled hastily to her feet, brushing the dust off of her robe and apologizing before she could catch her tongue. Apologizing to Malfoy was a big no no, even if she had run into him. Surely he would blow things way out of proportion, say she ought to be apologizing for running into her betters, make some low comment about how she belonged on the ground in the dirt, or squawk about her daring to touch his person and all other manner of mean things. After all, it just came natural to him. She deliberately forced her lips together and looked up at him silently. She was surprised to see him regarding her just as silently. An inscrutable look on his face. A poker face her dad would have called it. And in that moment Hermione would have given good money to know just what he was thinking of.

When he took a step towards her Hermione had to fight the impulse to step back. She would not let this albino ferret intimidate her. "I was looking for you." He said softly, in a low voice she could barely hear. He opened the classroom door next to him and gestured inside. "After you."

Politeness

From a Malfoy

To a Mudblood

Something was definitely up. The smart thing would be to walk away, just turn an about face and dismiss him completely. His fury would be glorious and it would keep her out of whatever trouble Malfoy was inevitably trying to land her in. But the fact was that her curiosity was rampant. What in the world could he have to discuss with her? Not to mention that it would be bad manners to just walk away. Besides, what if he needed help? Everyone knew he was fighting with his father.

She let out a snort. He would never ask for help from the likes of her. He might order her to lick his boots. But never ever would he ask for help from a lowly creature like herself. Still, without too much thought of why she was agreeing to closet herself in a deserted classroom with the enemy she whipped out her wand and walked past him inside, head held high. It was the DADA classroom and she walked to Lupins' desk, turning, to face him. "Well Malfoy? What can I do for you?"

She made no effort to hide the wand held in front of her defensively. He let out a snort similar to hers earlier.

"What can you do for me?" He gave her his patented condescending smirk, his voice more normal. Cultured drawling tones in a silky voice that made the Quidditch groupies of Hogwarts swoon. That would be everyone but her, who had no interest whatsoever in Quidditch or the Slytherin Seeker and Captain. He leaned one hip casually against the student desk behind him and crossed his arms across his chest. "The real question is: what can I do for you?"

Something in that statement was not quite right. If she didn't know better she would think it was innuendo.

But that was impossible.

This was after all Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy. But when his smirk grew and he deliberately ran his eyes from her toes to her eyes, slowly, willfully. Hermione decided she'd had enough. Who knew what went on in that sick twisted mind of his but she had too much on her plate right now for this…this….whatever this was.

"I don't have time for this." She said, making sure to use her most grating know it all voice, walking past him briskly. "Go find someone else to bother."

She jumped in her skin when he stopped her by grasping her arm lightly. She could feel the warmth of his fingers right through her robes. Had he ever touched her?

"Wait." She looked up at him inquisitively. "Don't go."

When did his eyes get so beautiful? They were a kaleidoscope of silvers and blues that shifted in the dim light like a storm brewing over the ocean. She'd never really paid attention. She never bothered to notice anything besides his condescending words, his hateful sneer that was standard around her. But he wasn't wearing it now. And his words were void of any demeaning undertone. She jerked back from his touch, way too late to appear instinctive and his lips curled into a slow smile.

"Well, spit it out already. What on earth were you searching for me for?"

He stepped away from her and paced to the window before he spoke and she hated that she didn't take the opportunity to just leave.

"It's come to my attention that you've been on the receiving end of some very nasty gossip. Your penniless beggar has stomped on your heart, publicly, and is currently parading his new girlfriend in front of your face. She is of course too dense to know it's all a ploy to make you horribly jealous. Which based on your avoidance of the whole situation I'd bet that you are."

Color suffused her face as he talked and Hermione felt fresh new waves of humiliation. If Malfoy knew the dirty details then the gossip was even more widespread than she had thought.

"There a point to this conversation Malfoy? Because I really don't see how any of that is your business." She bit out tartly. Considering turning and walking out she waited for his reply, really quite curious about what would come out of that mouth next.

"Well I'm making it my business because I can help you."

Hermione let out another snort. He brought out all of her unladylike qualities. Her mother would be appalled. "What could you possibly do to help me?"

"The facts are these. It's pathetically obvious that you want poorboy back despite the lousy way he treated you. The spineless carrot is enjoying all the attention and is willing to let you suffer in order to continue to receive it. The best plan to rectify the situation is to draw attention on yourself and away from him. Make yourself irresistibly attractive by dating someone else desirable and also make boytoy incredibly jealous. Give me free rein and I'll have the Weasel begging on his knees to have you back. In which case you can either have him or dismiss him, but either way your reputation and pride are salvaged."

Hermione shook her head sharply, ashamed of herself. Ashamed, because for a moment his idea had sounded as if it had promise. For a split second she had pictured the look on Ron's face as she turned tables on him and rubbed her new Beau in his face.

"That is not the Best Plan. It's the Slytherin Plan. Gryffindor's don't operate that way." She said snottily, turning to walk away.

"Oh come on Granger, don't be such a stick in the mud. Your precious Gryffindor ex isn't hesitating to string your heart out for everyone to see. He doesn't care that you are being humiliated. He doesn't care that everyone is spreading horrible rumors about you. All I'm suggesting is to give him a bit of his own back." He paused then, his voice going softer, suggestive. "I know you have it in you, I've seen you in action. Rita Skeeter, Umbridge, Me…you don't hesitate to serve it up when someone's got it coming. And he's got it coming Granger."

Just what did he know about Rita Skeeter? She had thought that was a secret. And how much did he know about the whole Umbridge situation?

Ron did have it coming. But she really didn't have the resources to pull off a plan like that.

"Don't be ridiculous Malfoy, I'm not going to go rope a boyfriend, lie to him, pretend I'm in love with him, and then dump him because I've used him all I can. That's not how I operate. I don't use people. That is what I mean by the Slytherin way."

"But what if the bloke knew you were using him?"

Hermione turned back to him, it was ridiculous to be having a conversation with her back turned. "I suppose you have a boyfriend all picked out for me then?"

"Well yes as a matter of fact I do." He looked entirely too smug standing there, leaning comfortably against the window pane. Smug Malfoys never meant good things for Gryffindors.

"Oh, I just can't wait to hear this. Who Malfoy? Who would you recommend I use shamelessly to get a cheap thrill by humiliating someone I care about? Not that it wouldn't feel good mind you." She tagged on the end before she could help herself, the benefits of this plan sneaking back up to the forefront of her mind. It would feel soooo good to get back at Ron and teach him that he couldn't go around treating women that way. She didn't even want him back; she just wanted to be able to tell him to sod off, publicly.

"Why, me of course. One Draco Malfoy at your service."

* * *

Thanks for Reading. If you have time please go vote for me at Dangerous Liasons. The link is on my authors page. Reviews are awesome!

Rain


	2. Insanity must be contageous

Hermione gripped her wand more tightly. She snapped her mouth shut with a click and edged towards the door slowly. Malfoy had clearly lost his mind and must be treated with the utmost care, like a wild animal. He was just standing there, arms crossed over his rather broad chest, smirking like an idiot, clearly amused.

Hermione was not in any way amused.

"Granger!" He barked. "Are you trying to run away again? I had no idea Gryffindors were this skittish. Just hear me out, would you?"

"Malfoy, I don't need to listen to you. This is the dumbest plan you've ever had, including throwing in with Umbridge. Even if I did choose to go ahead with this idiocy, no one would ever believe it."

His face darkened with the mention of old frog lady. "Throwing in with Umbridge was not stupid. Malfoys always land on top." He took a deep breath and let it out. "It doesn't matter; I'm not here to argue with you. It will work; we'll make people believe it. Really Granger, can you think of anything worse to do to Weasley than date me?"

"You do have a point Malfoy. That would be spectacularly funny. But it would hurt Harry too and I'm not interested in doing that. I would never hurt Harry."

He frowned, obviously not used to Gryffindor loyalty.

"I admit the boy wonder wouldn't be happy about it. But he trusts your judgment, he's a true friend to you, and wants you to be happy. It's disgusting. But he'll accept it. I can't say we'll be civil to each other, but I won't hex him except in self defense, and I will try not to deliberately provoke him."

"Dating me will provoke him."

"Like I said I reserve the right to defend myself."

Hermione quit backing up for the door and closed her eyes so she could think. He really did seem serious. This had to be some sort of joke. But she just kept remembering how she had felt that day when Ron had walked in with his new girlfriend and then promptly stuck his tongue down her throat. And all the slumber parties Patil was having over at Gryffindor tower so she could sneak down to the boys room after lights out. And all the mean spirited rumors flying around. Harry would understand. But he would never believe it, not really. And neither would anyone else.

"I know what you're thinking." Her eyes snapped open and found him way to close to her. Only a couple feet away, she hadn't heard him move. She ought to know better then to close her eyes to a Malfoy. "No one will believe it. But we'll take it slow, make it realistic."

"Malfoy, I'm not about to be another one of your tarts. You go through women like water. That would be even more embarrassing than my current situation. Thank you very much." She held up her chin. He obviously thought that she was stupid.

"Clever girl you are. It won't work if everybody just feels more sorry for you than they already do. I intend to make it crystal clear to the masses that you're different. I'll eventually declare for you publicly. Which, by the way, I have never ever done. I've never called anybody my girlfriend. You'll be the girl who finally bagged Draco Malfoy. And when it's done you can be the one to break it off and I will be suitably heartbroken."

He was painting a very temping picture. Right now everyone was laughing behind her back because she couldn't hold on to a boyfriend. She was too frigid and boring for anyone to like her. Draco Malfoy was definitely in demand. He had girls chasing him like he was some sort of rock star.

"This doesn't make any sense Malfoy, why would you want to do this?"

"I have my reasons. Are you in or out?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she took a step towards him. "No way ferret. You're going to have to convince me of your reasons or the deals off."

He looked at her for one long inscrutable moment. This close to him it became painfully clear just how tall he had gotten, he towered over her 5'7 frame. And when had he gotten so muscular?

"So if I tell you why, and it makes sense, you'll agree."

"I will consider it, if you have an excellent reason."

He sighed and waved at a seat. She hesitated a moment before lowering her wand and sitting down. If she was going to be "dating" him she wouldn't be able to hold her wand in front of her at all times. There would have to be some trust involved. Very little trust, but some.

"I've had a disagreement with my father. His political alliances are destroying my family name. I've decided that I need to get it back on track and the best way to do that is to completely distance myself from all of my fathers' beliefs." He began to pace slowly, gesturing with one hand. As if he was lecturing. "Seriously dating a muggle witch would make a huge statement, completely believable, because it's not obvious."

Ooookayyy. That actually did make sense.

"Why me?"

"I chose you for several reasons." He turned to face her, ticking off one finger. "You have your own agenda so there won't be any emotional entanglements. You're intelligent and beautiful so it's plausible that I'd date you. You're clever enough to pull this whole thing off. And you're a very public example of a muggle-born because of your association with Harry Potter. This would make the papers."

He thought she was beautiful. She could feel her face heat up and mentally prayed that she wasn't blushing too much. No one had ever called her beautiful. Well except her mother, which sooo didn't count.

"You can't date other girls; the rampant sex has to stop. I won't be embarrassed by you cheating on me."

"Done. You can never tell anyone why you dated me, even when it's over and done with. Including Harry Potter and the Weasel."

"Fine, no crude talks about me to your friends. You won't tell people you slept with me or brag about my bra size or anything else embarrassing."

"You don't want people to think we slept together?"

She bit her lip and thought about it. Part of her problem was that people thought she was a prude. "Maybe, I'll think about it. But I won't have you blabbing details to all the Slytherins or something like that."

"Fine. You'll need to attend some Slytherin events, sit a few times at my table, and we should probably start sitting together in classes too."

"I'm not going to do all of that. You can sit with the Gryffindors."

"We'll divide it up. And I'll make the first overture, today; at dinner."

"What kind of overture?"

"I'll just come by at dinner and ask you to walk with me or something. You can put up a token fuss, which will be expected, but then you will get up and come with me. Nothing overly outrageous to start with."

"Fine, we'll work out the details as we go. I reserve the right to call the whole thing off at anytime, for any reason. However, the details will remain between us. I definitely don't want this to get out." Hermione held out her hand to shake.

"Deal." Concurred Malfoy, shaking her hand firmly.

Hermione was increasingly nervous at dinner. She had to restrain herself from glancing over at the Slytherin table. Harry was on one side; he was in one of his brooding moods and didn't have much to say. Ginny was on the other side, deep in conversation with her friends. There was nowhere for her to look except in front of her, where Ron Weasley sat with Padma Patil. He kept running his hand over her thigh, it was terribly obvious, and they kept sharing bites of their food with each other. She mostly kept her eyes on her plate.

It was a relief when Ginny leaned over to say something to her, even if her words only riled up the nervousness in her stomach. "Draco Malfoy is staring at you."

Hermione turned sharply, glancing over her shoulder, not surprised to find grey eyes leveled on her. "Don't be ridiculous." She said turning back. "He's staring at someone else I'm sure."

"No he is staring at you. He has been since you walked in." Hermione shrugged and suppressed a smile. It looked like Malfoy was going to make good on his deal and was smart enough to lay down at least some groundwork before approaching her table, which took some balls. Slytherins weren't exactly welcome. And even though she was the one being approached, she had agreed to leave with him which was going to cause some serious uproar at her table.

Harry leaned over and murmured that he had detention with Snape before leaving her to finish her last biscuit. He had no sooner disappeared behind the swinging door when the hall went suddenly deathly silent. It was so quiet that she could hear his boot heels as he approached her table. He slid into Harry's spot, coming into her line of vision, straddling the bench seat, his body turned towards hers. Just as casual as if he sat at the Gryffindor table everyday. She snuck a glance at the staff table and was amused to find Snape's mouth literally hanging open.

"Hey Gorgeous. What are you doing after dinner?"

Okay, laying it on way too thick. She peeked at Ron, saw his face getting redder and glanced away, finding herself looking at Malfoy instead. "Uhm, I have some studying to do. Professor McGonagal assigned a very in depth essay and I have some charms work to finish up…"

"Oh that's no fun, come fly with me."

Fly? Everyone knew she didn't fly.

"Uhm, Draco…" Okay that sounded weird coming off her tongue. "I really have a lot I need to get done tonight."

She jumped and squeaked when he placed one warm hand possessively at her waist and leaned in closer to her. She had to fight every instinct she had not to lean away, slap his hand, squeal like a, like a, well like a girl.

"Oh, come on. We both know you're ages ahead in class. What are a couple hours?" His breath was warm on her cheek and she knew she was blushing a sunset. "Come fly with me."

Hermione leapt to her feet just to get away from his disturbing touch. He got to his feet much more slowly, giving her a slow sultry smile that ought to be illegal and certainly had never been leveled in her direction. "After you," he gestured like he was some kind of gentleman and she rushed from the hall. Really her exit was less than graceful but it was all that she could manage not to run.

He caught up with her quickly, lengthening his long stride so he wouldn't have to run. He even managed to get to the door in enough time to open it for her without seeming to rush at all. The hall was blessedly empty but she kept her voice low anyway, even though she was certain no one could hear over the buzz of conversation that sparked up in the hall the minute the door closed. "Gorgeous? You've got to be kidding."

"Hermione sounds weird; I have to call you something."

"Well think of something else." She hissed. "And Flying? Everyone knows I don't fly. I don't even fly with Harry or Ron."

"I know! That's what makes it so delicious. You should have seen the look on poorboys' face when you got up. I thought he was going to vomit slugs again." He turned down a corridor and she followed just so she could continue with their argument, though the smart thing would be to go strait to her dormitory. "Granger, we've really got to work on your acting ability. You can't act all skittish like that when I touch you or no one will ever buy this."

He turned again and she had to hurry to keep up with his long ass legs.

"Malfoy, slow down!" She panted.

"Draco."

"Yeah, whatever. We agreed no groping."

He stopped suddenly, head swiveling like a raven to look at her. "Obviously, you've never been groped." He started walking again, his stride notably shortened. "Some casual touching is going to be necessary."

She snorted. Even though he was right. But still, having him touch her like that in front of her friends was, to say the least, unsettling.

"We will have to practice."

What! Her earlier assumption was correct. Malfoy had completely lost his mind.

She was just about to tell him so when he pushed open two double doors and walked out on the Quidditch pitch. She hadn't even realized one could get to the pitch from the castle. "Malfoy, just what are we doing out here?"

"Draco." He corrected, pulling out his wand and holding his arm out. "Accio Broom."

"Make no mistake about it Malfoy; there is no way in hell that I'm climbing on a broomstick with you of all people."

His broom flew neatly into his palm and he turned, stalking towards her. "It's Draco. If we are going to make this work then there can't be inconsistencies in what we say and do. You never know who is watching. So you call me Draco, I'll call you Hermione, and we do what we say we are going to do. So get your uptight Gryffindor ass on the broom."

"No" She said mutinously, fear boiling up in her middle. There were few things that she feared and flying was one of them.

"Hermione." He hissed, emphasizing her name, "I would be willing to bet the Malfoy fortunes that as we speak people are finding excuses to make their way down to the pitch." He straddled the broom and she hesitantly made her way towards him.

"I've never ridden with anyone, how do I sit?"

His features evened out and he gestured to his broom. "You can sit facing out, like you're riding sidesaddle, you can sit facing forward and hold onto the grip, or you can face me."

"Which way is safest?"

"You'll probably be sturdiest if you face me and hold on around my waist. Any way you sit you'll be safe, I promise not to let you fall."

"You fly like a maniac."

"That's Quiddich, I'll fly safe as a magic carpet, promise."

She took a deep breath and slid one leg over the broomstick. She had to pull her robes up slightly to keep from getting tangled. She balanced her bum on the stick but didn't know what to do with her hands. He took her arms and wrapped them around his waist. She blushed at being so close to him but he was all business, scooting forward slightly. "Cross your ankles, and lay your head down so I can see."

She lay her head down lightly on his shoulder, and kept her hands light on his sides, but she gripped the broomstick between her thighs as tight as she could. She squeezed her eyes shut and chanted in her head over and over. He won't let me fall, it's just a broomstick. His arms came around her to grip the stick and she took a deep shuddering breath. He smelled nice, woodsy and clean. She concentrated on the feel of smooth muscles bunching under her hands, the nice way he smelled, the warmth of his skin under her cheek. Anything but flying on a twig a hundred feet in the air.

When he pushed off the ground into the air she screamed, literally squealed, and grabbed onto his waist as tight as she could. She buried her head in the crook of his throat and took deep shuddering breaths trying to calm herself down. But she could feel the rush of the air around her and knew they were nowhere close to the ground. She opened her eyes, just a slit and looked down at the pitch below her. She screamed again, clamping her eyes shut and clutching Malfoy like the lifeline he was.

She jumped in her seat, about upsetting the broom, when she felt one soothing hand run down her back. "Relax Granger." He said, "No wonder you can't fly, you can't even open you're eyes. I was right too; I can make out Creevy, Zambini, a couple of fourth years, and the she-weasel in the stands. Nosy buggers."

"Just get me out of here, so you can land this thing." She begged against his throat.

She felt the broom tilt, turning and let out a very undignified whimper. "It's not so scary if you open your eyes. The worst part is the not knowing." He said even as his body leaned forward, causing the broom to speed up. Oh God Oh God! He won't crash. If I fall I'm taking him with me.

"Open up, Granger, look." Something in her tone made her open her eyes and she gasped. It was the lake, lit up in hues of gold and red as the sun sank down in a ball of fire. It was beautiful, it was breathtaking. She couldn't breathe. She realized they were sinking and felt a pang of regret. How bizarre was that?

They touched down lightly and Hermione scrambled off the broom with undue haste, as if it would shoot off again if she stayed on it for a moment longer. She stood on unsteady limbs as she looked over the sunset safely from the ground. How sad, it just wasn't the same. "Admit it Granger, it wasn't so awful and terrifying."

"It's Hermione." She corrected absently, turning and walking back towards the castle.


	3. Fallout

The reviews I've been getting are so awesome. Blushes I'm so pleased that everyone seems to like this story. It's been bouncing around in my head forever and I'm finally getting around to putting it on paper. I expect the Ron/Hermione fights to get worse but this one was mostly about establishing Harry's loyalty. Well everyone, please read and review. Tell me what you think. It it's awful don't try to spare my feelings. Grins I did go back and correct some grammar mistakes that I overlooked. I'm very bad about that, I get impatient to post.

Rain

To say Draco Malfoy was shocked would be an understatement. He stared after Granger long after she was gone from his view, a bemused expression on his face. His intention had been to infuriate Weasley and frighten Granger. His plan had of course worked beautifully. He had managed to bully the girl into flying with him and had no doubt that Weasley was gnashing his teeth, furious. Everyone knew that Granger had absolutely refused to sit a broomstick since first year flying lessons. The fact that she had trusted him to take her up and not Potter or Weasley would be all over the school like wildfire. That fact alone would lend credence to this whole plan in a way that no other event, including snogging in the great hall, could.

What he hadn't expected was for it to feel so…..nice. Her wrapped around him like a ribbon, her soft feminine curves pressed against him. Her hot breath on his neck, her soft whimpers echoing in his ears. Even now he could still smell her. A soft lavender womanly scent that was clinging to his robes. The experience had been unbelievably sensual.

Somehow he didn't want her to walk away from this incident terrified. So when he had seen the spectacular sunset he had wanted to share it with her. He had coaxed her to look with his most soothing voice and her face had been filled with wonder, her body relaxing against his. He hadn't missed the small pout of disappointment when he had lowered his broom to the ground as gently as possible.

He shook his head, hardening his features. What the hell was he doing? Standing here mooning over a girl when there were plans to make. It was a delicate undertaking, making this whole plan airtight and believable. He didn't doubt that the uptight little Gryffindor could keep her mouth shut. But her acting abilities needed definite work.

She had jumped like a startled doe when he had touched her just lightly. And anyone with half a brain could see that jumping out of her seat was more eagerness to get away from him than enthusiasm about flying. He hadn't planned to do a lot of public touching; everyone knew he wasn't a touchy feely kind of guy. But there would need to be some, touching, people who were dating touched. And she would need to lean into him, perhaps touch him back. Smile up at him like she was in love.

Nothing tawdry or lewd. Sucking face in the great hall would not be believable. It was the subtle stuff that people tended to believe. The gossip hounds would be dismantling every single caress and look shared. She definitely needed practice. He'd have to just set her down somewhere and touch her until she became accustomed to it.

He also needed to plan his next move. He didn't want to be too outrageous. Maybe studying in the library. They could sit real close together, share a book, whisper together about Arithmancy. And when Weasley and Potter inevitably showed up it would be delicious.

He decided to walk back, clear his head. It wasn't too long before he heard whispering and ducked behind a large oak. It was a couple of dorky third years.

"I'm sure they came this way." The first whispered as they tried to pick stealthily by.

"We aren't going to find them."

"We need to see what they are up to, if we find them kissing…"

"No one would believe us anyway, we are talking about The Draco Malfoy and The Hermione Granger."

"I know…" The first girl's voice turned dreamy. "Isn't it romantic, like Romeo and Juliet?"

"Romeo and Juliet died." Snapped the second girl, as they moved out of earshot and Draco was grinning like an idiot when he stepped out from behind the tree. He had no idea who Juliet was but it was definitely going to be easier to convince people than he had thought. Still he couldn't get ahead of himself; they were just a couple of third year girls. This reality grounded thought did not detract from the bounce in his step as he made his way back to the castle. This was turning out to be even more fun than he had thought it would be.

Hermione's thoughts were far from kind as she stomped along, up the stairs. Praying to whatever god that might be listening up there that she ran into no one. She definitely did not want to see anyone till she had a few minutes to think this through. This whole thing was completely ludicrous. She definitely needed to call it off.

But the gods were not kind today, the minute she entered the common room she was almost assaulted by Parvati and Ginny.

"Hermione, did you really go flying with Draco Malfoy?"

"That is so romantic; I don't think he's ever asked anyone to fly with him."

"How long have you two been going out?"

"How come you never told me?"

She extracted her arm from Parvarti and let out a sigh. "Honestly Parvati, it was one little trip on a broomstick. I'm hardly going out with him."

"But you did go fly with him." Ron Weaskey's voice cut through the girly chatter around her like a knife. The group fell silent as everyone waited to see the fallout. Hermione lifted her chin and felt her spine stiffen resolutely. I mean really, where did he get off speaking to her in that tone?

"Yes Ron, I did fly with him. Where are Patil and Harry?"

"Don't change the subject!" He roared advancing on her in a rather alarming way, his face as bright red as his hair. "What the hell were you doing zooming around on broomstick with Malfoy? What were you doing anywhere near Malfoy? Calling him Draco and batting your long eyelashes like one of his Quiddich whores!"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Harry beat her to it, apparently he had been out of her line of vision. "Now wait just a minute Ron. You can be as mad as you want but you can't talk about Mione' like that!"

Ron held out a trembling, accusing finger. "She is fraternizing with the enemy!"

"But she's no whore." Harry replied quietly. "And she's not stupid either. I won't have you talking to her that way. I'm sure Hermione knows what she's doing."

Ron gaped like a fish and Hermione resisted the urge to reach out and hug Harry. He was such a good friend. "You, you…" He shuddered, turning away from them and shaking his head. "I can't believe you are siding with her on this. It's DRACO MALFOY. Ferret boy, death eater in training…"

Harry stepped forward, taking Ron's arm and leaning in to talk to him quietly. Hermione turned away to give them privacy and smiled nervously at the spectators standing around the room. Everyone looked away. She could hear the fierce whispering, occasionally a word getting through.

"Be reasonable."

"Malfoy!"

"She's your friend Ron."

Finally he pulled away angrily and stomped over to where she was standing. "I don't understand why you are so upset Ron, you are acting like a jealous ass."

"Jealous! I'm so not jealous. I'm your friend and I don't want you making a big mistake." He snarled in a very unfriendly way.

"My friend, you haven't acted like my friend since we broke up."

"Well if you weren't being such an incredible Bitch about it!"

"Ron!"

"Enough!" Harry roared. He spun to Hermione. "Go sit down, you and I need to talk." He spun on Ron. "You have done enough to split this friendship up! You've been an incredible ass for days and now you need to go chill out somewhere before you say something that's unforgivable!" Ron opened his mouth to say something more and Harry's features softened, along with his voice. "Go upstairs. I'll talk to Mione' and be up. We'll play chess, hash it out."

For a moment Ron looked as though he would protest. But he bit out a sour "fine" and stomped up the stairs. After a moment Patil found her way out of the shadows and followed him up the stairs, glancing nervously over her slim shoulder. When they had retreated Harry came and sat down on one of the big squashy armchairs. Gesturing for her to take another. "You do know what you're doing don't you?"

Harry gave one of those little self depreciating smiles that she loved, looking up at her through his messy hair, green eyes glinting. She took a seat next to him, smiling softly. "It's not as bad as everyone is making it out to be. Malfoy wants to be friends with me. It's not likely that anyone else is going to be headboy next year, and you know how big I am on inter-house relations."

"Malfoy's dangerous Hermione. Just keep that in mind."

"Oh please, he's harmless Harry. He's been fighting with his father; he isn't getting along with some of his friends. I think he's a bit lonely." Hermione avoided his eyes, knowing he would be able to see the lies in them. She felt like the lowest scum, lying to Harry.

"Lonely? Solitary creatures don't get lonely Mione'"

"Thanks for sticking up for me Harry, It means a lot."

He sat back, a smile on his lips. "Well of course. Ron was out of line. But he does have a bit of a point Hermione. I'm not dense enough to think that you can't take care of yourself, but you're a bit like Hagrid sometimes. Taking pity on those who don't deserve it. Dragon's don't make good pets."

Hermione managed to sneak upstairs when her bedmates weren't watching and fell exhausted onto her bed. She really ought to study but really she just wanted to sleep. She curled up around her pillow, burrowing down in the blankets. Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy would smell so nice? Her eyes drifted shut. The feel of one strong hand traveling soothingly down her back, his honey smooth voice in her ear. The sunset had been so pretty. Maybe she should try flying again. There were better ways to travel, apparition, floo powder, airplanes. But it sure was pretty up there and not so bad when you had someone to hold onto.


	4. Unwelcome Observations

Hey readers. Your reviews are so awesome. In answer to some questions: Lupin has been re-hired by Dumbledore. I never thought it was fair that he felt he had to quit. This is a sixth year fic. And I know I was calling Padma Patil just Patil in the last chapter. In JK's books it's kind of a theme to refer to the enemy by their last name. It was kind of a subconscious reference in Hermione's mind that Padma is the enemy. I guess I should have made that more clear.

Rain

The library was wonderfully serene. The familiar musky scent of books. The comforting shadows dancing on the walls. The blessed silence.

Hermione made her way to a table and dropped her bag on a chair to mark her place. Not that there would be much traffic on a Saturday. The place would fill up with last minute studiers tomorrow, but today people were sleeping in and enjoying the sunshine. Hermione however needed to make up for going to bed early the night before.

Not that she had slept well. Her dreams had been plagued with broomsticks and grey eyes. Very disturbing, and hardly conducive to a good nights rest. Besides, she had needed to get out of her dorm before her roommates woke up, or worse, before Ginny woke.

She wanted to put off that heart to heart as long as possible.

She might be able to fool Ron, and maybe even Harry, but Ginny was in a completely different league when it came to ferreting out the truth. No pun intended.

She browsed around the library, finding a book or two she needed, and three that she did not. But she had been meaning to read up on beetles, and the book on goblin culture looked intriguing. She very carefully kept the book entitled "The joys of flying" carefully concealed under the others, with the spine to her stomach. When she sat down she braced her bag up against the stack, if Ron were to see that it would open a whole new can of worms.

She pulled a stack of notebooks from her bag and spread them around her, digging out quills and her notes. And then she got down to serious business.

Two essays later, she was pouring over her Arithmancy notes and carefully outlining possible year end projects. It was important to get an early start so she could be certain to have plenty of time to produce her very best work. The professor had said that their final projects would be worth 50 of their grade.

When she felt someone slide in the seat next to her she finished the sentence she was writing before turning to say hello to Harry, who usually came to bully her out of library by noon for lunch. To her utter dismay it was not Harry who had dumped their cloak on the floor, pushed her backpack aside, and was thumbing through her stuff.

It was Malfoy

She felt her smile slip from her face like chalk in the rain. "The joys of flying…Hermione…you can't be serious!" He said pushing her other books off, causing them to tumble roughly to the table. "You can't learn that through a book."

"Hey!" She said, indignant on behalf of the books. No need to throw them around. "Anything can be learned from a book." She said snottily, putting her nose in the air and leaning back into her chair to escape his disturbing proximity. But he refused to take a hint.

He slipped one arm over the back of her chair, his long fingers brushing her shoulder and leaned in close to her. "Is that right? So when the time comes I suppose you will order 'The joys of Making Love' and you and the lucky bloke can cuddle and read it together."

Hermione blushed scarlet with the intimate turn of conversation and tried to jerk her shoulder free from his touch, but his fingers dug into her skin and held her firmly in place.

"Relax." He breathed in her ear.

"I can't." She hissed back, deliberately keeping herself from moving away from him. His arm was brushing against her shoulders, his body coiled close to hers. He smelled so good it ought to be a sin. Leather, expensive cologne, and the warm musky scent she had come to associate with fresh from Quidditch practice.

He leaned forward slightly, his chest rubbing up against her arm, and turned the page of her book.

"I can see why the Weasel turned you loose. You're wound so tight a good hug would break you in half."

"I am not." She whispered furiously in return, flipping her page back over so she could continue reading. That was best, just ignore him.

"You are stiff as a board, don't you ever loosen up?" He breathed against her skin. She pulled her book closer and bent over it, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm stiff because you're you. I'll have you know I was plenty relaxed around Ron." She replied haughtily in a low voice, surreptitiously peering over her book. Several people were watching them openly. And the library was deadly silent. Usually she craved that quiet, but not when the only reason for it was that ears were straining to hear her personal conversations. Really, didn't these people have lives of their own?

Nosey Busybodies.

"Perhaps too relaxed?" He replied, equally quiet, but even a bare whisper couldn't disguise the haughty taunting tone to his voice. He could even sneer in an undertone. "What I mean to say is that a lover's touch…" he ran one long finger up along her shoulder and grazed the bare skin on her neck…"should leave you excited and breathless. Something must have been missing if poor-boys touch left you pliant and relaxed."

Hermione silently cursed the rash of gooseflesh that broke out over her skin. Surely he noticed. Judging by his smug look, he had.

"That isn't what I meant. And it's really none of your business anyway."

The words on her page seemed to rearrange themselves and refused to make sense. She couldn't even concentrate well enough to read, he was too close. His scent was overwhelming. His words beyond disturbing. Had there been something wrong with the physical part of hers and Ron's relationship? After all, a single touch of his had never left her shaking and distracted.

It was just because it was Malfoy

She was disturbed and disgusted.

She was.

"The question is…" He continued, obviously paying her denial no mind. "Was the problem on his end, or yours?"

His finger moved along her throat, and down the curve of her breast, his large warm hand coming to rest at her waist. Hermione realized with a start that she had been holding her breath and took a shuddering lungful of air, glancing around apprehensively at the people around them. Could they hear the way her heart was beating erratically? Could he?

"It's my opinion that Weasley just doesn't know how to touch you properly. He doesn't have any passion, any fire."

"Hermione, it's time for lunch." Harry's flat cold voice intruded on the moment like a bucket of cold ice water in her face. Hermione jumped in her skin and looked up at Harry's angry face guiltily.

"Oh, right, lunch." She squeaked, shoveling things in her backpack and elbowing Malfoy sharply to get him to put some distance between them. Within 60 seconds she had jammed her stuff messily in her bag and was walking away with Harry. She didn't glance back at her table and she didn't say goodbye.

"I thought he wanted to be your friend." Harry said as they pushed their way out of the big double doors.

"He does want to be my friend." Hermione replied strait faced, firming her voice into her usual no nonsense tone that seemed to have deserted her when she was speaking to that presumptuous git.

"Mione' are you blind? He was coming on to you!"

"Don't be ridiculous Harry, its Draco Malfoy we are talking about here. He certainly wouldn't lower himself to flirt with the likes of me." She replied in a self-aggrandizing way, peering out of the corner of her eye to see if her best friend of six years was buying a word of her bologna. Apparently not.

"I trust you completely Mione' but I just can't believe that you are being this naïve. The fact of the matter is that Malfoy has an agenda, he always has an agenda." Harry's face shifted into that granite hard look that he wore when he talked about you know who. "I'm not going to let him hurt you. I certainly can't tell you who to be friends with, and won't try, but if he crosses you than he is going to deal with me. And I'll expect that you don't tell me whose face I can smash in."

Hermione felt sick. She was on one hand warmed by Harry's fierce protectiveness. And at the same time she felt cold because she was lying to this wonderful loyal friend. She opened her mouth to tell him everything when Ron suddenly joined them from a side hallway, his girlfriend on his arm, and her mouth closed with a click.

At lunch, Hermione dug out her notebook and a muggle ink pen. She preferred them over quills, not necessarily because they were any easier to use than self inking quills, but because they seemed to fit better in her tiny hand.

i _Information and conversation about my personal life were not any part of our original understanding. Nor will it be in the future. Unnecessary physical contact will also not be tolerated. Meet me in the trophy room after dinner to discuss a more acceptable method of attaining desired results. i/ _

She transfigured the jagged notebook page into elegant parchment that even a Malfoy couldn't sneer at, before rolling her note up and putting it in one of the small letter tubes she kept in her bag. She left it unsigned, not necessarily out of fear of interception, but because she didn't know how to sign a letter addressed to a fellow conspirator whom she hated. It wasn't as if she could sign Love Always, Hermione like she usually did.

When the trio rose from their seats Hermione offered a quick apology because she needed to get to the owlery.

"I'll go with you Mione'" Ron suddenly offered out of the ether. "Malfoy might be lurking about ready to pounce on you again." He added darkly, squashing the hope that he wanted to spend time with her. Hermione nodded coolly and lead the way silently to the school owls. Angry with Ron's silence Hermione made no secret to hide who her message was bound for.

She tied the tube to one of the schools owls, gave it a pat, and said quite clearly. "Would you be so kind as to deliver this to Draco Malfoy?"

"YOU'RE WRITING TO HIM NOW!" Ron exploded loudly, causing the owl to fly quickly away in a wave of feathers, hooting reproachfully.

Hermione rose calmly to her feet, secretly enjoying his rage. Didn't like a dose of his own medicine, did he?

"Ron, I can write to whoever I want to." She bent over the wipe the feathers off her robes.

"He's evil, He's Dangerous. He's Draco Malfoy!"

"He isn't evil Ron," She replied, hiding a grin and linking her arm with his to lead him out of the room, just like old times. "He is going to be head boy next year for sure, his grades are only second to mine. And if he is willing to make a go at friendship, then so am I."

He pulled away from her, looking at her with comical horror. "I forbid it." He said decisively. "I forbid you to see him, write to him, or even talk to him."

Hermione felt her familiar outrage at Ron overwhelm her. He was just so unreasonable. She spun to face him, hands on hips, eyes blazing. "You listen up mister! You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't own me. No one does. And no one forbids me to do a damn thing!"

"Hermione someone has to! You are being a complete idiot! I'm your boyfriend and I know what is best for you!"

"No, you're Padma's boyfriend. Remember! You're with her now. So go tell her what to do."

He opened his mouth to scream back at her but no words came out. Hermione turned quickly as Professor Snape swooped down on them. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for screaming in the hallways like first years."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but realized that she had been hit with the same silencing spell.

"Get out of my sight, the charm will wear off by dinner, and in the interim Hogwarts will be free of your incessant arguing."

Hermione stormed off down the hall to her dorms. She stomped up the stairs, in no mood to explain without words that she had no words. In her room she found a majestic eagle owl tapping her window. She let in the bird, which pompously held out one slender leg for her to retrieve her message. He swooped away without waiting to see if she had a reply.

The long elegant script was unmistakable.

i _Not the Trophy Room.__ Too public. I'll see you in the old charms classroom, left of Godric's statue in the west wing, at promptly __7:00__._

DM i/ 


	5. Don't call me sweetheart

Draco Malfoy was early, as was his habit. He knew that Granger would be on the dot and didn't want to arrive after her. The old charms room was cloaked in dust and Draco found momentary reason to regret his decision to meet here. This is what happened when you were too lenient with the help. They got lazy. There was no excuse for the state of this room, the house elves were probably too busy ducking liberation to be about their jobs properly. "Dobby!" He snapped, and was not surprised when with a clap the small elf appeared at his side.

Draco chose to graciously ignore his ridiculous apparel, a badly matched tuxedo, several different colorful socks layered one over the other, and a teetering tower of what looked to be knitted hats. Instead he gestured to the room and Dobby squeaked, his face turning even more ashen, quite obviously mortified to find the room in such awful repair. The little elf immediately called for reinforcements and Draco left them to it, confident that they could carry on without his supervision.

That was how Granger found him, indolently lounging up against the wall in the corridor. She must have been running behind because she flew around the turn quickly, slowing to a walk, and smoothing down her hair before she caught sight of him. Her mouth instantly tightened in annoyance, whether at the site of him, or because he had witnessed her hurry, he didn't know. But even the pinched look of her mouth didn't detract much from the whole picture.

She had wild unmanageable hair. On an eleven-year-old girl, it had looked huge and frizzy. On a young woman it was sensual and sexy, spiraling down her back in chocolate waves. Her features were fine and chiseled, almost doll-like in their porcelain perfection. He especially liked her lips, red and pouty, like she had just eaten a bowl of ripe strawberries. She was slender and tall, and fit him perfectly. She would be a vision on his arm…if he could keep her persuaded long enough.

Her scent reached him first, floral and light. He didn't speak, or bother to stand upright even when she planted herself in front of him. "Why are you in the hall? I thought you wanted to be discreet." She whispered. He could tell she was still angry with him about this morning, but she had a good head on her shoulders and kept her voice low. Just then Dobby came out of the room behind them and announced that the classroom was clean, if Master would like to inspect it.

"Thank you Dobby. There is no need for me to inspect, your work has always been excellent." The little elf glowed with satisfaction as he popped away; unfortunately his enthusiasm was not contagious. His girl was practically hissing fire at him under her breath, about elf rights, inhumanity, slave labor, blah blah blah…She seemed to be quite worked up and it wasn't long before she was pointing a finger at him and jabbing it towards his midsection threateningly.

"Hermione relax. Dobby doesn't mind. He enjoys the work…" But she talked right over him about how wizards like him thought this and that. Merlin she was adorable. Her eyes flashed up at him, wide hazel orbs that shone with emotion. He found himself focusing on her lips as they moved rapidly, her finger getting closer and closer to his chest with each jab. He liked her voice too, soft without being shrill, husky without being deep. Melodious. That was the word he was looking for. Her finger brushed his robes in its enthusiasm and before he could think about what he was doing he had grasped her wayward hand in his and tugged her close enough to kiss.

The look on her startled features was priceless as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth was open in a soft O and soft and pliant against his. He brushed up against her gently before nibbling and exploring her lips.

She tasted good

Like Honey

When he felt her tentatively kiss him back, his whole body shuddered in a reaction so powerful that he pulled away before it could overwhelm him. She stared up at him, wide eyed with parted lips. And he knew he must look just as dazed but couldn't seem to master his expression and force it into something resembling his usual nonchalance. Her hand rose slowly and she pressed trembling fingers to her lips, as if testing that they were still under her command before she spoke in hushed whispered tones, as if the walls were listening.

"What was that?"

Hell if he knew. His whole body was still strumming with awareness of her. Her scent was sharper, her breath mingled with his, and his lips stung with the loss of her touch.

"The only way to shut you up." He finally managed a friendly grin, releasing her hand and giving her silent permission to move away. She didn't however step back and let him get his raging emotions under control. She continued to stare up at him, charmingly bewildered, her small hand pressed to her lips. "Besides we need to practice."

Something about that last sentence seemed to jog her from her temporary complacency and she jumped back from him abruptly, a gasp echoing loudly in the room. "There will be no need for THAT kind of practice." She hissed angrily. He couldn't help but smile at her, a crooked arrogant smile.

"Well maybe I don't need any practice, but I'm sure poor boy left some loopholes in your education…"

"We are not talking about this." She said coldly, putting her delicate nose in the air and staring him down angrily. Putting him on familiar ground, because the truth was he was used to her anger having roused it many times over the years. "We aren't talking about this or any other private matters."

The hall was blessedly empty. He wouldn't have minded if anyone had witnessed an impromptu kiss between quarrelling lovers, but he certainly didn't want anyone listening in on the conversation that was sure to follow. He opened the door, gesturing for her to precede him and for a moment he thought she would refuse. But miraculously without argument she breezed through the door, turning sharply to face him, as if unwilling to have the enemy at her back. Charming. And how very Slytherin of her.

He thought about telling her so, as she started to hiss at him about never touching her again, and shut the door behind him. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he needed her cooperation on this. He could not make the plan work without her wholehearted participation.

"Granger…Hermione, even you, in your limited experience can't possibly believe that we'll be able to pull this whole thing off to a tee, and never touch each other."

She tossed her hair, a surprisingly feminine move that left him slightly unbalanced. His eyes traced over the bouncy shinning locks as they tumbled back around her face. What he had originally thought to be chaos apparently had some unidentified order, because the same curls fell into the same places.

"Are you even listening to me?" She shrieked, breaking through his mental fog with piercing brutality. He also hadn't heard her shriek and silently resolved to make it his mission that she felt the need to do so as little as possible.

"Holding hands, hanging out together, walking together, a friendly hug! Honestly Malfoy there are plenty of subtle ways to portray a relationship where your lips don't even remotely touch mine." He parroted in a sing song feminine voice, quoting her verbatim. The three seconds of silence her shock earned him were so precious. It was a talent of his, useful in classes like Transfiguration, being able to pay attention with only half a mind.

"Don't mock me!" She bit out, each word heavy with fury, her pointy finger coming into play once again.

"Look Granger, not that this little spat isn't fun, but I really don't want to spend my free time with you outside of our plan. We're not exactly bosom buddies, so if we could move this little planning session you requested further toward the actual planning…"

She huffed.

Her hands crossed under her breasts and her breath came in short little bursts. Another one of her attitudes he was familiar with. She huffed like that every single time she got shot down in potions, every time Snape belittled her. He found himself oddly pleased that he was worthy of such huffiness.

. "We've been spotted together a few times; I don't think it would be moving too fast to sit together in a few classes."

She opened her mouth to protest but he plowed over her.

"Not any classes with Potter or Freckles though. As fun as it would be, fighting with them over your honor is counter-productive." He waited for her to speak and when she remained silent but thoughtful he continued. "That leaves Arithmancy and Astronomy. We'll be picking new partners in Astronomy; I think we ought to pair up."

"That doesn't seem too bold…" She bit down on her bottom lip with white even teeth, gnawing on it gently while she thought. "There are several Ravenclaws in that class though, Natasha and Sean are especially observant. We'd have to be careful to stay in character…"

He stepped closer to her and she tensed unconsciously, giving him a wary look. "You're right…Hermione…; they'll pick up on subtle hints." He sneered at her, twisting his lips in a practiced condescending scornful look. "For example, looking skittish at the very thought of my touching you."

She opened her mouth to protest but he reached out and cupped her face in his hands, touched her hair, brushed his thumb over her lips. "People who are in love look at each other like they're in love. They lean into each other; they sit close, touch often." She stared up at him alright, wide eyed and terrified, breath coming in short little pants, her body practically trembling with the need to move away from him. So not the impression he was going for.

"Relax…" He breathed and she squeaked. He sighed and scrubbed his brain trying to find a way to make her act like any of the simpering brainless pureblood girls who traipsed after him constantly. Fun to dally with, but they would get him absolutely nowhere in the big scheme of things. And even with his fertile imagination he couldn't even remotely picture Granger batting her eyelashes up at him and pouting prettily because he paid her no mind at lunch…He dropped his hands and walked across the room, turning and walking back, giving into his undignified desire to pace.

"I'm not the only one who needs to practice; you keep hesitating on my name, and sneering at me." She snapped without much venom, apparently needing to fill the void in conversation.

"If I quit sneering, people will assume Poly-juice. That will get us no where." He answered back absently. She giggled, and he looked at her sideways, disturbed. Granger did not giggle.

"Sit down." He said, resigned to donating more of his time to this little project this evening, when what he really wanted to do was work on his game at the pitch.

"Why?" She asked, entirely too suspicious. Who knew she was so paranoid about simple things? Did every little thing need a detailed explanation?

"I can't help you with the stage fright, but if you were more accustomed to my touch you might not jump around like a frightened first year every time I brush up against you."

She sat down on a gleaming student bench. "I really don't think there will need to be all that much touching…I'm not comfortable with this Malfoy."

"Draco." He corrected. Her shoulders were tense and hunched over, and she started violently when he laid his hands on them. Slow firm circles with his thumbs, pressure with his palms; he massaged her shoulders and neck and was delighted to find that almost immediately her head fell forward to give him better access.

"Draco…Where did you learn to do that?" Her voice had softened, to almost a purr and it washed over him like waves of dark chocolate. He found the pressure points at the base of her skull and manipulated them deftly for a moment before sweeping his hands back down to her shoulders and rolling her flesh between his fingers. She was melting like butter.

"I could call you Cara." He said, lowering his voice an octave, trying to sound soothing and non-threatening.

"You aren't Italian."

"I could call you Nina…"

"You aren't Spanish." She replied, leaning into his touch. He swept his hands down over her arms to her fingers and back again. She tilted his head back into his chest and her eyes fluttered shut. If he wasn't careful he'd put her to sleep. His mind flashed briefly to a ludicrous fantasy that involved him carrying her sleeping form down to the Slytherin dormitories and laying her out on his smooth silky sheets.

"Pêche?"

"Peach, why peach?" Her skin was soft and silky and she didn't jump when he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her clean subtle scent. Trust her to ask. He couldn't very well say, _'because you're ripe for the plucking my sweet'_ and expect her to stay supple and pliant in his hands.

His lips brushed against the soft spot under her ear and the spell was broken. She stood abruptly, spinning to face him, her voice higher pitched.

"Well, that's enough practice. I um feel much better, thank you." She blushed a pretty sunset as she edged towards the door. "I'll see you in class then, we'll partner?"

He nodded and she was gone, leaving her light floral scent in her wake.

Authors Notes:

I hope I didn't butcher the foreign languages too badly. I used a internet dictionary and tried to stick to one word phrases…

I am so overwhelmed by everyone's reviews. Thank you guys so much for taking your time to give me your thoughts. Blushes Prettily I read them over and over and felt very encouraged to get this chapter done. I'll try not to be so long in updating. If anyone wants to borrow my RL for a few days I promise to tap away diligently…

Rain


	6. The sweet scent of Revenge!

Hermione literally ran to the Prefects bathroom. If she was really looking for privacy she should probably go to Myrtles bathroom but it was too far and she didn't want anyone to see her like this. A mess. A complete and utter mess. She braced her hands on the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. She was flushed all over, her hair its usual mess, her eyes were still dilated, her lip red and swollen from chewing on it to keep from making a sound out loud.

He had a hypnotic touch. They must have taught it to him in Death Eater Summer Camp or something. Hermione was horrified that her sensible self could be disarmed so instantly. Just being around him had her heart pounding, her palms sweaty. She couldn't breathe and she couldn't think. It was beyond disturbing. I mean it was Malfoy! If she didn't know better she would think that those were the signs of…attraction. But that was impossible.

It was Draco Malfoy. And she knew better. But it didn't appear that her body had gotten the memo because every time she was anywhere near him her hormones kicked into overdrive. She needed to get control before she made a complete idiot of herself. Earlier he had kissed her. She could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers, and yet did she pull back and slap him like he deserved? No, instead she had kissed him back. She had behaved like a complete ninny! She obviously had no self control where he was concerned and she couldn't go on like this.

The solution was simple. She needed to call the whole thing off. She simply wasn't experienced enough to have a boy touching her and feel nothing. A little voice in the back of her head piped up and Hermione tried to squash it…but the question remained. Then why had it been so easy to be reserved with Ron? She enjoyed his touches well enough, had let him kiss her a few times, but even when his body was pressed up against hers she had experienced none of the topsy turvy feelings that Malfoy inspired in her. It was disturbing.

She'd heard that opposites attract. But this was ridiculous. She thought back to earlier that day, in the library, her comment about how anything could be learned in a book. Her books certainly hadn't prepared her for this, this…phenomenon. She must not be looking in the right books. She turned abruptly, to go to the library despite the late hour just as the door to the bath chamber opened.

Out stepped Padma Patil and Ron. Oh God…they were both in towels, hanging on each other and giggling as they left the steamy room. They were a few steps into the main chamber of the bathroom before they noticed her standing there with her mouth open.

"Hermione!" Ron said, almost accusingly, like she shouldn't be in the Prefects bathroom or something. This was just too much. They were sleeping together! In the bathroom that she used two to three times a week for her own bubble bath. That was it. This was war. She gave Ron her most scathing look before exiting the bathroom and slamming the door as hard as she could behind her. There was no way she was calling off "the plan" now.

* * *

"Take off your robe," He said, doing the same and bunching them together for her head to rest on before thrusting her unceremoniously onto the window seat.

"M…Draco. I don't think this is a good idea."

"It's a Brilliant idea. Nothing less then I've come to expect from you. Lay back, get comfortable." He said even as he whipped off his school sweater. He loosened his tie and her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth. He made quick work of the row of silver buttons on his oxford and shrugged out of it to reveal just the thin white tee underneath. How was she supposed to relax with all those muscles rippling at her? It was indecent…and he was going to be touching her. Her body broke out in a rash of goose-bumps and she jumped in her skin when he walked closer and reached out his hands.

"I thought we were over that." He said irritably, not stopping but reaching out and grasping her school jumper and pulling it over her head. He pushed her back to the makeshift pillow of robes and grabbed her legs to move her down to a reclining position before reaching up to fluff the robes behind her head and smooth down her hair. He was all business, like he was positioning a mannequin and she was melting into a puddle of goo every time his warm hands brushed up against her.

"I didn't stop to think about them catching us snogging means there will have to be actual snogging. I don't know if I can do this." She said nervously, her heart beat doubling and her body reacting alarmingly when he quickly undid several buttons of her white oxford, exposing just the top of her lacy bra, and a little cleavage.

"Of course you can, you're Hermione Granger." He said absently, pulling her stiff legs apart and bending the one closest to the hallway, arranging her skirt so it appeared to have slid up her thigh by accident. He glanced at his watch and sighed. "They should be along any minute. My source said they always come through here right after lunch so they can snog in the reflection room." He looked awkward for one stagnant second before climbing up onto the window seat with her.

"I've changed my mind." She squeaked. "I don't want to be here." He climbed in between her thighs, crawling up her body. She had to open her legs wider to accommodate his body. Oh lord. She had never had anyone even remotely between her legs like this. He brushed up against her intimately and she moaned out loud trying to shrink away from him before she gave herself away. If he knew that she enjoyed any part of his touches, she would never live it down. Besides, it shouldn't be Malfoy making her body sing, it should be someone else. Someone she loved. Someone like Ron.

"I'm not a bad kisser you know." He sounded eloquently annoyed, his face scrunched up in irritation, just inches from her own, as he hovered over her on his forearms. That was the problem, Malfoy was probably as good at kissing as everything else, and if just a little massage left her pliant and willing in his hands, how much worse would her reaction be now?

"It's not that." She felt obligated to admit as she shifted underneath him to get more comfortable. He let out a low sound that might have been a groan. "Are you ok? Did I hurt you?" She asked uncertainly, sure that she had leaned on something, or pinched something, like the awkward virgin that she was.

"It's not that." He replied his voice low and strained and she felt compelled to look up into his eyes. He had beautiful eyes. And something about the way he spoke had her thinking that maybe; just maybe he was affected by their closeness as well. He shifted against her again, rubbing suggestively, if not purposely. His hard stomach was pressed into her soft curves and she felt her nipples growing hard, her panties growing damp, despite her nervousness. Surely he had enough experience with girls to notice the signs of her…awareness.

He leaned in, his body sliding against hers and kissed her neck. Her whole body shuddered with the sensation and Hermione sucked in a deep breath. She had no idea that she was so sensitive there.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was low, breathy, uncertain, and she wished she would have made more effort to make it sound more brisk and formal.

"They'll be along any minute," he kissed her pulse, her jaw, soft warm kisses. Bad idea. Bad bad idea…

"They aren't here yet…" He nibbled the corner of her mouth.

"I don't want it to look staged." He brushed his lips over hers softly. His tongue darted out, swept slowly over her lips, and then he kissed her again drawing her bottom lip into his, touching it with his tongue. Releasing her lips and then kissing her again. This was nothing like Ron's wet sloppy kisses. This was slow, sensual. She was completely aware of everywhere he was touching her, every crease of his lips. Every feather-like touch of his tongue. She wanted more.

"This is too real." She whispered pulling back abruptly.

"Hermione I have no idea how to pretend to kiss you and make it look real. Just let it happen…"

He leaned in again, this time kissing her neck.

"Isn't this where you tell me to relax…"

"No, you're the right kind of excited." He whispered before sucking the soft sensitive flesh of her neck gently. Ohhh God, that felt…electric. He was sending shocks of sensation through her whole body. Like something out of a dime store smut book. Layering soft sucking kisses over her skin, starting at her shoulder and working his way to the sensitive skin just under her ear. She'd never been kissed like this.

She found herself letting out low sounds of pleasure as his kisses became harder, more aggressive. He captured her lips again, this time running his tongue along her lips only once before using his teeth to pull her bottom lip down and slip his tongue inside. But even with his tongue in her mouth he was slow, seductive, playing with her lips and tongue, drawing her out, making her kiss him back hesitantly.

This time he didn't pull away, like he did in the hallway yesterday, he let out a ragged sound and kissed her more firmly. She fisted her hands in the robes underneath her and he pulled back enough to whisper between kisses. "No, touch me instead." She hesitated before letting her hands skim over his back to his shoulders.

He shuddered and kissed her harder. "Did I do it wrong?" She asked when he released her lips to kiss her neck again.

"God No…don't stop." He whispered back, his own hands coming into play. One boldly running up her thigh, moving her skirt even farther up her leg. She grabbed onto his tee-shirt, digging her nails in trying to keep from crying out. And he was kissing her again, a desperate edge to his touch that she mirrored. She didn't care how wrong this was…she just didn't want him to stop…

"HERMIONE!"

Talk about cold water on the grave. For a moment she was mortified at being caught in the most intense make out session she'd ever had before reality intruded and she remembered that she had wanted to get caught. This calming knowledge however did not cause her blush to fade. She turned her head slowly, to meet angry blue eyes, across the hall. Draco turned his head as well, glaring balefully, before snarling "Sod off. This isn't your business Weasley."

"Hell if it isn't!" He shouted back before barreling towards them with alarming speed. Malfoy jumped up off her, landing on his feet with surprising dexterity, whipping out his wand before she could scramble up. She took a heartbeat to smooth her skirt and decide there was no time to fix her blouse before rushing between them, holding out her hands.

"Move out of the way Hermione." Ron shouted, trying to get around her, but she refused to budge.

"No. I'm not moving. You need to calm down Ron." She tried to say but he shoved her hard enough to send her flying back on her ass and swung at Malfoy, catching him full on his face. In a heartbeat they were a tangle of angry boy limbs, both punching and kicking fit to kill while she sat on the cold stone floor, her mouth open in shock. She couldn't believe Ron had pushed her! She hoped Malfoy kicked the snot out of him.

She was pulled out of her stupor by none other than Padma helping her up by her arm. She shared an amazed look with the other girl before pulling out her wand and yelling 'Petrificus Totalus'. They were too entwined to aim for one or the other, it was just luck that she hit Ron with the spell and she couldn't begrudge Malfoy the one brutal punch to the other boy's stomach before he climbed to his feet. Ron had after all, sucker punched him first.

Malfoy said nothing as he brushed his clothes off, they were hopelessly covered in dust and his white tee-shirt had a huge rip in the stomach. He stooped an picked up his wand, examining it carefully before tucking it away. She walked over and looked down on her ex-boyfriend and tried to dredge up some pity or satisfaction. But all she felt was cold anger. She had so many things to say to him. Yell at him for being an ass, for punching Malfoy, for not listening to her. But the only words she could find were "If you ever assault me again I will tell Harry."

The blood drained from his face and his eyes bugged up, but he couldn't move or speak and Hermione decided she rather liked him like this. "Can you undo the spell?" She directed at Padma, who knelt by her boyfriend and took out her wand.

"I'll let him up when you're gone."

"I'm sorry about this,"

"It's not your fault."

She linked her arm through Malfoys and turned to walk away. Surprisingly he didn't fight her. He was going to have a hell of a shiner and she wondered if she could heal it with her wand. She hadn't really had much practice with medi-spells. What with no magic in the summer and Madame Pomfrey here at school But she had read all about them, of course.

* * *

I know I haven't updated Obscurity yet. But this just had to be written and now, it couldn't wait patiently. As you can imagine this story is easier to write because it's more lighthearted. And I was itching to have some touching between our duo.

I Know Ron is Being an ASS. I don't think he would ever beat a woman. I think he lost his temper and didn't mean to push her that hard. Think of it like a brother pushing a sister. That is the spirit in which I wrote it. I kind of like to think that he hadn't even realized that he had pushed her until she said something about it and then was horrified, both at his actions and at the thought of Harry finding out.

Anyway, I got so many awesome reviews. I can't believe the response to this story. I'm blushing like crazy every time I log on and find reviews. Really you guys make me squeal and jump up and down like a loon. I'm so very flattered.


	7. Healing Touch

As it turned out Malfoy hadn't matured as much as she had thought. He still whined like a two-year-old when he got hurt.

"Hold still."

"Granger! That bloody hurts! Quit poking me."

"Do you want me to heal this or not?"

"Healing isn't supposed to involve all that prodding. If you weren't a sodding muggle you'd know that. Doctor's have to poke and prod. Healers know better."

She graciously chose to ignore his snarling because he was sporting a huge black eye earned in her defense. "I wouldn't poke you if you'd quit squirming around."

"I'm certain that Madame Pompfry doesn't jab like that, and it only takes her one try."

"That's the wand movement in the book. If you like Madame Pompfry so much, go to her."

"Your flaming boyfriend gave me this bruise. The least you can do is heal it. I was rolling on the ground like bleedin' common trash for you. You'd think you'd be a little more gracious."

"Well maybe if you'd shut up for five minutes I could concentrate and heal your stupid little bruise. I am grateful. That's why I don't give you another shiner to match this one and walk out of here."

"You had better be grateful after all I've done for you…"

"This whole thing was your idea Malfoy!"

"No," He almost sang. "I seem to recall you laying out this particular plan." She took a deep calming breath. In through her nose, out through her mouth. "Maybe your memory is faulty, along with your dismal judgement in friends and lovers."

She tried the spell again. "Mucilaginousio" and spun her wand in a small circle before pointing it at the large purple bruise. Malfoy was right about the wand movement; it worked better if she didn't jab quite so much. This time almost all of the swelling was reduced and some of the color faded. She tried it again with less of a jab and more of a swivel and was rewarded with almost unblemished skin. She couldn't help her pleased smile. She immediately turned to some of his other, smaller bruises and healed them quickly. It was all in the wrist. "I'm not sure of the spell to get rid of the abrasion over your eye though…if we go to the library I can look it up."

He touched his eye, almost hesitantly and gave her a long look. "That was nicely done…Thank you." There was something about the way he was looking at her, the tone of his voice, that let her know that wasn't what he'd originally intended to say. She realized with a start that she was very close to him, her breath in his face, her body almost touching his. When she'd been concentrating before he hadn't seemed too close, but all of the sudden he seemed to be an overwhelming presence and she had to step back to get her bearings. "Right then, let's go."

Hermione dried her suddenly damp hands on her skirt and glanced down at herself. She quickly did up her blouse, pulling at her skirt to straighten it. Malfoy took the hint and started to put himself to rights as well. There was no way she would ever be caught in the library looking freshly kissed and indecent. There was nothing to be done for her hair without a sink full of water and a mirror so she just pushed as much of it behind her ears as she could manage. She wished she hadn't left her robe lying on the window seat. The story was probably all over the school by now.

"Back to get our robes?"

He nodded his head, pushing himself off the desk he'd been sitting on. He opened the door and gestured her through and Hermione had to hide a small smile. Opening doors and being polite to her was beginning to become a habit for him. Then she frowned because in all of her time at Hogwarts she couldn't once remember Ron holding the door open.

* * *

Granger had the most delightful way of wriggling her ass when she walked. He'd never noticed before because she was either wearing her Hogwarts robes or those horrid baggy pants, jeans, whatever. But that short little pleated skirt gave a whole new meaning to legs up to her neck. He was fascinated with the bounce around her thighs as she bounced on ahead of him. Every third or forth step there would be enough swing in her step to get a glimpse of the lace around her thigh high stockings. If he hadn't seen them for himself he would have never believed she had them on.

His mind flashed on some naughty librarian porn in his fathers' collection and he quickly looked away from her nicely shaped behind, trying to force his mind elsewhere. If he didn't get control of his thoughts he was never going to get control of his body. Even a naïve virgin like Hermione would eventually realize that he had a hard on the size of a summer sausage. But like a polarized magnet his eyes were drawn back to the girl in front of him.

And try as he might, he couldn't get the scene from the window seat out of his mind. He had thought he could be all business about it. He'd been with dozens of girls just as pretty, if not more beautiful than she was. He was a man of the world. But when he'd stepped back and taken in the scene he'd known he was in trouble.

She was the very picture of seduction just as he had intended her to be. Unfortunately for him, he had felt very seduced, and a tell tale bulge in his pants.

Just from looking.

Her hair a sexy mess around her face and shoulders, a wayward curl nestled against her chest. Which he had a tantalizing glimpse of, since her pristine white blouse had been un-buttoned. Her skirt riding up her legs, black lace from her stockings hinting out from underneath.

Oh yeah, he was definitely in trouble. But it had been too late to back out and the horrible unbiased truth was that he hadn't wanted to. Just the thought of climbing between those milky white thighs had him revving at the engine, all systems go. She'd of course been too nervous to know just how much trouble she was in.

And then touching her. Even now he shuddered at the memory of hesitant kisses and undulating hips. Arching her back for him, offering her neck, letting him run his hands up her silky thighs. If bloody Weasley hadn't shown up he had no doubt he'd have shagged her into the ground.

And just now had almost even been worse. Her bent over him, half undressed, her scent all around him. Her hair brushing up against him, her cool fingers on his skin. He'd had to resort to snarling at her. It was either that or kiss her senseless again, only now he had no excuse. He didn't fancy being slapped silly.

Again.

So now he was following her like an obedient puppy down the corridors. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why he was tagging along. Mission accomplished, the whole school had no doubt that he and Granger were hot and heavy. No reason to be hanging around with the girl. He ought to be down in his common room fending off snide remarks and getting patted on the back for bagging the Gryffindor prize virgin. He just couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her ass. And leaving would mean leaving behind the view as well. He was a Slytherin, he was just being lecherous. Right? Right! It made perfect sense.

Maybe Voldemort had messed around with a mudblood and that's why he was so barmy.

The taste of her was still in his mouth.

Her scent was on his skin.

He was in trouble.

What he really needed to do was go fly for a bit. Clear his head. Although he couldn't imagine flying with a woody to be too comfortable.

She stopped abruptly and he realized that they had reached their destination. She handed him his robe, wordlessly shrugging into her own. The fact that he had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't realized where he was jolted him out of his pre-occupation. It was very unlike him. That and his eye candy had just been put away.

* * *

A/N

This chapter is ridiculously short. I just am nowhere near finished with the next part and this section was done so I decided to post.

Triple cheers for all of the people who voted for this fiction at Dangerous Liaisons. It won two awards and I am so giddy happy!


	8. Coming up for Air

Authors Notes:

Authors Notes:

Well the good news is I am not dead. I do intend to finish both of my current stores. And I've dedicated some time for writing each week. The bad news is that this isn't my best work. It's not beta'd and some of it's been on my computer for months. But I just wanted to throw something out there and get my feet wet again. I went through last week and read all of the wonderful reviews everyone has left and felt like I needed to post something even if it wasn't fabulous. Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed and waited so patiently. Without those reviews I might have never started this story up again. And now to the story…

Disappearing sounded like a fantastic idea right about now.

Hermione stomped harshly on this cowardly thought and held her head high. Malfoy might have melted away into the oblivion while she was putting on her robe earlier, but that didn't mean that hiding was the best way of dealing with the situation. It was taking his advice that had landed her in this God-awful situation to begin with. It was time that she started using all that esteemed Gryffindor courage. But really, would it be so awful to miss a meal? She'd missed meals before, during marathon study sessions. But she knew that when it came right down to it everybody would know that she was ducking because of Malfoy.

She had justified hiding in the girls bathroom for most of the afternoon, under the pretence of espionage, but dinner would have to be faced. Besides it wasn't like she hadn't heard her name over and over again while she huddled in a stall. Rampant disbelief and shocked astonishment were the most common reactions. She had had to bite her lip to keep from squawking indignantly at the few people who said they saw it coming all along. She had learned plenty about what people thought of her that's for sure, and definitely confirmed that _EVERYONE _knew about that afternoon…which had been her original intention when she had closed herself off in there. The overwhelming response to people knowing however is what kept her there for several hours.

She steeled her backbone and pushed through the big double doors to the banquet hall.

Hermione immediately wished that she had come earlier so that her entrance wouldn't be so obvious. She halted in her hurried steps for a moment as sound in the room almost ceased and hundreds of avid faces swung in her direction. She refused to duck her head and look at the floor, she had outgrown that unbearable shyness. She refused to give them the satisfaction. And if she hurried a bit? Well she was hungry and really, who could blame her! As if they had nothing better to do than stare at her. Nosy busybodies. It wasn't like half of those girls hadn't snogged Draco Malfoy too.

Draco turned in his seat; feet sprawled out in front of him, and watched her walk the plank with a smirk in place. Arrogant bastard. She shot him a murderous glare, which only seemed to increase his glee, and practically dove into her seat between Harry and Ron. Lord, it was like some cheesy teenage movie. The moment she took her seat conversation sprung up around her, and despite the whispered tones she still heard her name over and over.

Once, yesterday in fact, she would have found comfort here. Among her own. But at the Gryffindor table there was stony silence. She began to fill her plate, almost haltingly. Silence at her table was unheard of. Harry and Ron on either side of her usually felt safe, gave her strength and courage, but now it seemed like she was being closed in on from all sides. Just when she was considering fleeing from the table without eating Harry dropped an arm over her shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "Have some of these lemon bars, Mione, they are really good."

And the spell was broken just like that. Conversation sprung up, people began to eat, and no one stared at her. She gave Harry a grateful smile and took a bite of a lemon bar. Granted it was obvious that no one was talking about her and that they wanted to, but she preferred it that way.

"We still have to talk Hermione." Harry whispered in her ear, but the dreaded declaration wasn't nearly as hard to swallow as she had feared.

"I know."

Draco Malfoy scowled at his friends who were twittering and tried to concentrate on his food. Slytherin's did not twitter. What was with these brainless loons? Did Dumbledore change their colors to poncey Gold and Scarlet? Really, the aftermath of his liaison with Granger was not what he had expected. Instead of sly speculative looks and pats on his back he was getting...giggles. It was just beyond disturbing. He felt like standing up and shouting that he refused to be affiliated with a house that giggled and excusing himself from the table.

And if he overheard one more person telling another person that they had seen it coming all along he was going to rip out their tongue.

Uppity chit didn't even give him a second glance when she walked past him. Who did she think that she was? Ignoring him! He was a Malfoy, the Malfoy heir. Her boyfriend. Despite his best intentions he let his gaze drift over in their direction. He had to control his features and bite his tongue to keep from snarling in rage. Potter had draped his spindly little arm over her and was whispering intimately into her ear. The little flirt was leaning in, smiling softly. Now why the hell couldn't she do that with him? Everyone would believe this little charade in a heartbeat if she would just look up at him with those doe eyes the way she was looking at Potter.

He wasn't in this on his own and he wasn't going to let that stuck up prissy little Gryffindor make him look like some pathetic love struck nancy boy chasing after the golden girl. She was going to have to give a little back. Giving him filthy looks and flouncing over to her table to cuddle with someone else was not appropriate. She was just a little too secure in her position. After all he hadn't declared undying love or anything messy like that. He'd just been caught pawing her in a dark corner of the castle. Nothing he couldn't recover from. If she didn't start upholding her end of the bargain he would spin this in a bad way for her. It would be really easy to just blow her off as another conquest and find himself another muggle-born witch to woo.

If Potter didn't get his hands off of her in the next five seconds he was going to snap his fingers like twigs.

Hermione knew it was just her imagination but she could practically feel Malfoy boring a hole in her skull with his glare. She shifted away from Harry so she could hazard a glance from the corner of her eye. She quickly darted her eyes forward, half expecting her breath to come out in white puffs. The look he had given her was so cold that she ought to have felt an artic breeze slamming up against her.

What was his problem? He was the one who disappeared on her today. Leaving her with a stomach full of butterflies, a head full of questions, and a lions den to face alone. She pushed her heavy hair over her shoulder and casually turned her head enough to watch him ignore her. He didn't even glance her way, Arrogant Berk. She couldn't believe she had to face Harry and the entire Gryffindor house for him and he didn't even deign to so much as acknowledge her staring.

Dinner was like chewing on sawdust, tasteless, joyless and got stuck in her throat. As the minutes ticked by and the moment came when she would have to go back to the Gryffindor common room her stomach wound itself up tighter and tighter. But she couldn't quit eating because that would mean it was time. At last she laid down her fork and snorted with amusement at the clatter of silverware hitting the table. Apparently people waiting on the edge of their seat for her to finish hadn't been her imagination.

Cool, Calm, Collected. She was Hermione Granger and she could handle anything.

The next three hours could easily be defined as Hermione's worst nightmare. Harry's genuine concern for her broke her heart. Ron's seething and shouting reminded her painfully of when they had been going out. And when she insisted that she was tired and went to bed, getting bombarded by a dozen girls waiting in her room was the most devastating hurl of them all. Really, Ginny should be ashamed! Didn't the girl know that Malfoy was an evil manipulative bastard, whose father had tried to murder her, and was in no way shape or form…gorgeous?

Lucky for her the girls in her house knew that she was fairly inexperienced as far as boys went. So her blushing, and stammering, and inability to provide coherent details was chalked up to good old fashioned shyness. At least she hoped it was. The curiosity she could live with on some level and after a few questions she began to gather her footing and respond with more of a "none of your business" attitude. These girls knew she was not the Chatty Kathy who's your girlfriend type. She had certainly never been invited to any of the girly, pink bunny slipper, makeover, and gossip parties held in the commons area. Nor had she any desire to be invited. And one heated snog with the gossip king was not going to transfer such a desire via osmosis.

It was the pity that got her righteous knickers in a twist. These girls actually felt sorry for her. They believed that Malfoy was taking advantage of her, using her, and that she was too naïve to see it. Had these girls really attended several years of boarding school with her? Didn't they know her at all? No one got anything over on her, duped her, or took advantage of her. She was not tender from her break-up. She was not overwhelmed by Malfoy's masculinity. And she sure as hell was not in over her head.

Malfoy was definitely going to have to step up and fulfill the adoration clause in their agreement. Otherwise her reputation would be in tatters. Mangle her heart all you wanted, but these boys were messing with her reputation. Between Ron and Malfoy she was now a brainless, boy chasing twit, who didn't have a clue what was best for her. He had better make this right or she would curse him so badly his grandchildren would be cross-eyed.

It gave Draco great satisfaction to let Hermione stew in her juices all night. He had Quiddich practice and then took off on his broom. He deliberately didn't tell anyone where he was going. His housemates wouldn't know where Granger had gotten off to and perhaps they would think they were off canoodling somewhere. No one had the nerve to outright ask him. At the very least his reputation as a Malfoy afforded him some luxuries. He didn't have to put up with a barrage of questions from his housemates. Even Pansy shied away when he snapped at her to mind her own ruddy business.

He made a point of being late to breakfast so she couldn't ambush him in the halls. A happy little tune was playing in his head. He didn't know what had been wrong with him the last few days. Getting all short of breath and moony eyed over a girl. A long hard flight and a good night's sleep had cleared his mind. He was back on even footing and ready to plan and scheme. Granger should be all wound up, his father should have gotten the news, and someone had anonymously let slip to the Prophet that the Malfoy heir had chosen a bride. He of course wouldn't confirm that story but he expected it to be splashed across the front page tomorrow anyway. He hoped they used the recent photo's he had provided with his anonymous letter and not one of those hideous buck toothed pictures from Grangers unfortunate ugly duckling days.

Everything was falling together nicely.

She was waiting for him at the doors to the great hall.

Seeing her again was like a kick in the gut. She had her head down, fiddling with something on her wrist, a bracelet. One slender foot was up on its toes, twisting. Her hair hid most of her face, coffee colored curls brushing the tops of her breasts. He stopped a good ways away and sucked in a breath. When had it gotten so hard to breathe? She was no supermodel. No flashy clothes, artful makeup, or perfectly manicured nails for Hermione Granger. But she was beautiful. Classic in a way very few girls could claim. She was stunning without trying and somehow that made her dead sexy.

The sexiest thing about her was that she had absolutely no idea how damn pretty she was. Okay, take a breath Malfoy. This wasn't that unnatural. She was someone he had recently had a very pleasant snog with. Any normal boy his age would be feeling…something. He slapped his best snooty smirk on his face and marched up to her. She realized he was coming and her pretty eyes got so big around that he fancied he could see his reflection in them.

But she stood her ground in classic Granger style and tipped her head back to retain eye contact.

"Where have you been? I've scoured the castle looking for you."

"I'm not one of your Gryffindor lapdogs. I was busy." He tried to put as much disdain as he could muster into his voice and hoped it didn't sound as hoarse as he felt. His gaze wondered to the hem of her skirt, his traitorous mind flashing back to creamy thighs wide open for him, grinding hips, his hand pushing her skirt up further. He blinked and gave her his best glare for distracting him. She glared back, hands coming up on her hips. Putting him back on familiar ground. He was well used to her eyes spitting fire at him.

"Malfoy," She hissed angrily, "I sure hope your next step in your grand scheme is all planned out. Because so far this whole thing is not working out for me. Ron thinks I'm a pathetic moron!"

"It's Draco, Hermione." He whispered taking a step into her personal space. She was the one who was supposed to be unbalanced. He was supposed to be in control. But he just kept replaying that scene of her in his arms over and over. She smelled good. He wanted to push her. He wanted to unbalance her as much as she unbalanced him. He wanted her lips to part, her breath to come quick. He wanted her to shake when he touched her. "It's too late to back out now sweetheart."

"I told you not to call me that, Draco." His name was falsely sweet on her tongue. Syrupy. "You've gotten your overnight fame now it's your turn to uphold your end of the bargain."

"Exactly, I've got what I want. I don't see any reason to be all that concerned over what you wanted." He took another step closer to her and she retreated by taking a step back. Her foot hit the door and she jumped a bit, startled to find it there. "We're not exactly friends."

"I'll tell you why you overgrown rodent." She hissed, her finger coming up to poke him in a threatening manner. Her breath smelled like peppermint and was coming nice and fast now. "Because I'm not one of those brainless twits you usually date. I'll make you rue the day your mother laid eyes on your smarmy father. You do not want to cross me."

She was good at making a threat. Her voice screamed conviction. He didn't doubt for one minute that she would hack him into pieces, wear his guts for garters and mail his mother his spleen. It was dead sexy.

"Good plan…Hermione, after I spurn you and you bleed me dry everyone will talk about Black Widow Granger. Couldn't keep her man but she could get revenge."

Her cute little hands curled into fists and she started to shake with anger. "If you think for one moment I would stoop to killing you, you are sadly mistaken. I want you to live a good long time. I want to make sure you have years and years to suffer." She gave him a small shove. "Get out of my way vermin."

"If I'm vermin then why do you like to kiss me so much?" He didn't know what made him say it; it was only a guess, and he liked to always be sure. Her eyes got even bigger and her lips parted on a silent indignant gasp. Something about her soft lips so close to his had him bending his head and taking advantage of her. She pressed her hands against his chest hard and tried to turn his head but he was having none of it.

He pushed back until she was firmly up against the door and gathered a handful of hair so he could hold her still. She bit his lip and he tasted blood so he ruthlessly took advantage of her open mouth to get his tongue inside. She let out a low sound that might have been a moan. And she tasted so fucking good. He rocked his body up against her so she couldn't bring her knee up but she managed to get her hand up to his nipple and gave it a vicious twist. Minx.

He let her go long enough to get her hands over her head and pinned to the wall. She was strong for a girl and she struggled. But it was all for show. This time when he kissed her, she kissed him back. And it wasn't too long before she softened against him. He let go of her hands so he could bury his in her hair and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders with a sigh. Yeah, she could deny it all she wanted. She liked kissing him.

He felt like he was drowning and he didn't mind. He was desperate to touch her everywhere. To explore every dip and hollow, To kiss her till she passed out from lack of air. His head was spinning, and his tongue was alive with the taste of her. Her scent surrounded him and nothing in the world existed except this girl. This perfect woman in his arms.

Her sighs and moans and lips and tongue. Her soft breasts pressed up against him. He shoved one thigh between hers so he could rub up against her just right and she twisted against him desperate for the friction.

He didn't want to let her go.

That thought intruded like a glass of ice water to the face.

He pulled back from her as suddenly as he had pulled her to him in the first place. She followed him, holding onto him for support and gasping for breath. She was every bit as breathless and unbalanced as he had wanted her to be.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"I wanted you to look freshly kissed when you went to breakfast." This seemed to snap her out of her passion induced daze and she jerked away from him, smoothing her hair away from her face as best he could.

He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted it so bad that he had to take a step back from her to curb the impulse.

He was definitely out of his fucking mind.


	9. It's All Downhill

He was clearly unbalanced. Swinging from one mood to another with no warning quick as lighting. Hermione tried to back away and remembered how close she was to the wall. She straightened her spine and tossed her hair back. He'd made a mess of it. Well he might a yellow fruit loop but she is the one who had decided to go swimming in the bowl. So who was crazier? Malfoy? Who was obviously insane and didn't even know it, or was it her? She was the one had chosen to expose herself to his foul personality, let him paw her, and toy with her reputation. She was supposed to be the smartest witch of her generation, but she was acting like a complete ninny. Perhaps she should see if therapy was covered by her parents insurance because obviously she was in need.

He gave her a slow condescending look, sweeping his eyes from her feet to her eyes, and nodded, seemingly satisfied. She felt his look like a physical caress. She had to stop herself from crossing her arms over her chest, and then messed it up by flinching when he gave her his patented knowing look. Deep down she was convinced that he had absolutely no idea about anything and his stinking father had taken him aside and taught him that all knowing look.

"Get out of my way." She went for cool and collected but her voice sounded angry and had a wet Crookshanks tone to it. She didn't care. She gave him her best look of deepest loathing and brushed past him without incident. "We'll talk about this later, when you've had time to come to your senses." She threw over her shoulder, breezing through the doors like she didn't have a care in the world.

She really hoped he came to his senses; murder most foul would be difficult to cover up. She would have to transfigure him into a ferret and keep him indefinitely, and rodents really weren't her thing. She was more into lovable furry creatures, like cats.

She was so furious at Malfoy that she almost didn't notice people staring at her. So caught up in her anger that she managed to get to her seat without scurrying or acting embarrassed. Who cared what they thought anyway? She'd spent several years at this school without their approval and wasn't really sure how it had suddenly came to matter so much. Well screw them all. Let them think what they wanted. She was breaking up with Malfoy first thing in the morning. That was that.

There would be no more insane make out sessions that made her head spin. She was quite obviously not mature enough for it.

She smiled at Ron, inordinately pleased with his scowl and the bruise on his cheek. Just having him all riled up on her behalf made her feel so much better. She reached for her toast and buttered it with a calm sense of serenity that she had been lacking ever since she had embarked on this whole romance escapade. Obviously this whole boyfriend thing wasn't for her and she felt much more balanced just knowing that no matter how the cards fell she would be better off without one.

Her blessed tranquility however wasn't to be. Like always Malfoy intruded relentlessly.

Her bag dropped on the table in front of her knocking over the butter. He leaned in close, right in front of everybody to drop a warm soft kiss on her cheek. "You rushed off without your bag."

She felt the color flood her face like she was being dipped in warm red paint. Oh, she hated him. She hated him. She hated him. She suddenly realized she was out of breath and took a shuddering lungful of air as she turned to say…something. But he was already on his way to his seat. She let out a sigh and hauled her bag off the table, knocking over the salt in the process and dumped it on the floor without bothering to clean off the butter smear. It didn't matter; she was going to burn that bag anyway.

********************************************************************************************************************

The problem with pushing Granger's buttons was that somehow she managed to push his buttons back. She had always been able to get under his skin, make his blood hot. Something about her was able to effortlessly skirt all of his usual defenses. Now she had a new weapon. Apparently his teenage libido found her incredibly irresistible. Just being around her had his hormones in a twist and his mind all clouded. Luckily she had no idea about her new found power over him. At least he hoped she didn't. He was going to have to curb his overwhelming impulse to touch her.

As much fun as it was to shock her and set her off balance, it was playing havoc with his own reactions. The thing was, in order to get her breathless and unbalanced; he himself was becoming intoxicated and aroused. Not that it meant anything. She was a pretty girl. He was a normal teenager. And if his reaction was a little out of the ordinary it certainly didn't have anything to do with her. It was the excitement of duping the Wizarding world. It was the thrill of infuriating his father. It was the buzz from blatantly partaking in the forbidden. Not only was Granger muggle-born, she was the Gryffindor Princess, she was Weasley's obsession, and she was practically the sister of his arch enemy Potter. She was everything that he should never even consider touching…

That was why he found her so alluring.

He doused his pancakes with syrup and took a fierce bite to drown out the lingering taste of her tongue in his mouth.

"So Draco, are you shagging Granger or not?" Zabini's drawl cut across the table silencing conversation. Draco deliberately swallowed his food, meeting the other boy's eyes with calm command. If he could only manage to be in as much control over his encounters with Granger he would be sleeping better.

"That's none of your business Blaise." He took another bite of pancakes. Her scent was clinging to his robes. It was distracting.

"Well, we are just wondering what the hell you are doing traipsing around with that…"

He sat down his fork with a quiet clink. "I'd be very careful about what comes out of your mouth Zabini."

Zabini visibly swallowed but then his face turned mutinous. "Since when are we not allowed to speak our minds about Gryffindor trash Malfoy?"

He stood up very slowly, enjoying his impressive height. "I'm going to assume that we are now discussing Potter."

The silence around them had spread to the Ravenclaw table but the Hufflepuffs remained cheerfully unaware of the tension. The pause stretched uncomfortably long and Draco was wondering if something more needed to be said when Blaise finally spoke, averting his eyes. "Of course Draco, you know how I feel about Potter. He needs to be put in his place."

He sat down and quiet conversation began hesitantly, almost immediately overpowered by the delivery of the mail.

A crisp white envelope emblazoned with the Malfoy Crest lifted his spirits immediately.

_Draco,_

_Some disturbing misinformation has made its way into the Prophet. Apparently you have allowed your control of the situation at Hogwarts to slip to the point that some brainless twit has the gall to report outrageous gossip to some reporter. Splashed across the front page is a photograph of you on broomstick with that mudblood friend of Potter's. The alteration is very good, I'm having it researched, it looks very genuine. _

_We must convene immediately to devise a plan and collaborate on the best way to minimize the damage to your reputation. I am deeply disappointed in your inability to manage your affairs at Hogwarts in more dignified manner. In my day a salvage job such as this would never have been necessary. _

_Lucius Malfoy_

Draco resisted the urge to immediately pen a response to the letter and folded it carefully, placing it in the inside pocket of his robes. He took another bite of pancakes and despite his best efforts let his gaze stray to the Gryffindor table.

She was chatting with her friends, blissfully unaware of the article about her in the Prophet. She slowly turned to her paper, unfolding as she laughed at something the She-Weasel said. He had forgotten she took a subscription to the paper. That made the whole situation even more delicious. She glanced down at the front page, shaking it out with a practiced flick of her wrists. He fancied he could hear her gasp as her mouth fell open but he was too far away to make out the sound over the school chatter.

He had a sudden irresistible need to see what was written about them in the paper. He pulled his fathers letter out for effect, letting anger settle on his features. Before pushing his plate away and climbing to his feet. He stomped over the Gryffindor table. He could have gotten the paper from any one of a dozen other students. He didn't care. He wanted to look into her eyes and see her dismay. As long as he kept his hands to himself he could enjoy watching her squirm.

He grasped her arm above the elbow and leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. "Come outside with me."

She didn't even jump at his touch. She looked up at him with wide surprised eyes apparently too shocked to be offended and nervous by his closeness. "Malfoy," Her dismay apparent in her voice. "Have you seen this?"

She smelled so good. He didn't know what perfume she wore but he was going to demand that she quit immediately. It was distracting. He couldn't be panting all deep like this when he was around her. Weasley was turning an unpleasant shade of Puce and Potter looked as alarmed as Granger ought to have been. After all he had laid his Slytherin hands on their precious princess. He got an unholy thrill from their distress. He should have thought of this ages ago.

Her lips were very close to his and he tamped down the wild desire to kiss her. Brand her as his in front of Potter. Stake his claim for the entire world to see. His blood was rushing so fast through his veins that it was making him lightheaded. "I have something to show you too, come outside with me."

His voice came out husky and low, and he told himself he'd done it on purpose. She rose to her face almost hesitantly, clutching the paper way too tight. He forced himself to step to the side, mourning her closeness, so she could get out and Potter rose to his feet. "Is everything alright Hermione?"

"Oh, everything is fine." She said as she clumsily folded her paper and grabbed some toast. "I'll see you in transfiguration."

As simple as that she left with him. Either her acting skills had dramatically improved or she wasn't at all skittish in his presence. He couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

He took her bag, and stuffed the paper under his arm as he passed her the letter from his father. This time leaving with her did not feel like he was walking the gauntlet. People must be getting used to them already. He'd have to do something to shake them up. What fun was all of this if he couldn't horrify the masses?

He pushed open the doors and they walked out into the courtyard. She was blessedly silent while she read the letter from his father. The courtyard was empty for a short while; everyone was finishing up with breakfast. But soon it would be heavy with hustle and bustle. A good opportunity to be "caught" together in lover behavior.

"I don't understand," She stopped and looked up at him. "I thought that you wanted your father to be upset."

She was charmingly naïve and open. He'd have to break her of that. Her big brown eyes were like a map of her emotions if anyone cared to read it. He didn't care. He couldn't give one hoot how she felt, or what she thought, or how good she smelled. He grabbed her hand in a friendly way and gave her a tug so she would follow him. No witnesses here, but one could never be positive. And he leaned down close to her ear to speak to her. That's the way a lover would be about it, and that way there would be no overhearing of the conversation.

"I do want my father to be upset. But I can't look like I'm thrilled about it. How you managed to be pegged the brightest Witch of the age, I'll never know."

"Just because I'm not naturally devious like you, doesn't mean I'm not intelligent." She whispered back, turning her head to place her words in his ear. Her warm breath tickled his skin. "So brilliant mastermind schemer, what's next on the agenda?"

"Well, the whole school is talking, Weasel is furious, and my father is in denial. I think that what we are doing is just fine."

"Where are we going?"

Did she ever stop asking questions? He gave her a look to hush her mouth and parked her underneath a willow tree by the lake. He dropped down beside her and spread open the paper. A full cover picture of himself and Granger graced the front page.

Even though he had coerced the picture from that runty Gryffindor that had been in the stands, Colic or whatever his name was. He hadn't really gotten a good look at the photo before he had stuffed it in an envelope to send to the Prophet. It looked completely different in large scale full blown color. The look on his face as he gazed down at her as they lifted up in the air must have been some sort of trick of the light. It looked downright…tender.

The story was pretty much just the details in the anonymous letter he had written. That he and Granger were exclusive, seen together everywhere, bla bla bla. Her credentials, his pedigree, all syrupy light stuff. Thankfully no younger year pictures of Granger. And the creme de la creme was that he had asked for his mother's engagement ring, which was a well known heirloom that had been in his family for centuries. He had done no such thing of course but it would be difficult to prove or disprove and it was vague enough that his family wouldn't protest it.

Just lovely.

He let out a sigh of satisfaction and handed Granger back her paper and stuffed his father's envelope back into his pocket.

"Did you know about this?" She shook her paper at him in a rather threatening way. She was a lot more violent than he had given her credit for. Always prancing around arrayed in her Gryffindor Righteousness about not bullying younger students, and about fairness for all creatures. But surprisingly she wasn't much of a pacifist…she was passionate. And quick to anger. He thought it was very sexy. "This is unacceptable, I can't have mongering reporters making up wild stories about me and splashing my life all over the paper."

"Relax Granger." He pulled an apple out of his pocket that he had intended for a late afternoon snack and polished it on his robes. "This is how we wanted things to look. Serious relationship. You're my Queen, I'm your devoted lackey…you know, your normal Gryffindor romance."

"People are going to ask questions! Did you really ask your mother for her ring?"

He reached out and tugged her closer, the doors would be opening anytime now and people would be streaming out into the courtyard.

"Well, just tell them that the Prophet is always exaggerating and smile." He tucked one of her wayward curls behind her ear and offered her a bite of his apple. She looked appalled and pressed on with her chatter.

"That will work for you because you because people expect empty headed prattle from you. My friends are going to want the truth." She was starting to sound hysterical. How bizarre was it that he found that adorable. He let his hand trail down her arm and sighed. Her skin was indecently soft.

"So make something up. Just don't make me look bad."

"There is nothing I could possibly say that isn't going to make you look bad." Her voice had taken on that quiet breathless quality that he liked so much. She was close enough that he could count her freckles. Smell her warm scent.

"So tell them to mind their own ruddy business." He leaned in. She was so close. He brushed his lips over hers just as the doors to the hall banged open admitting the first wave of students. She didn't notice. Oh Merlin. Her lips parted and he leaned in closer, brushing her soft lips with his tongue. He dropped his apple to bury his hand in her hair and taste her properly.

CLICK

FLASH

"Malfoy, Do you want to buy this photo too?"

She pulled away from him abruptly.

"YOU!" She scrambled to her feet. "You sent that photo to the prophet. I don't know why I am surprised." She stomped her little foot, gave a little squeal, turned on her heel and left. He looked up at Colic, or Colin, or Creepy, or whatever his name was. It didn't matter…he was going to kill that scrawny little Gryffindor.


End file.
